Being a Girl Read Online Free

globes of my bottom, pounding the cheeks like dough and, when the smarting began to ease, he smacked me again, and it didn’t feel so hard now. The pain had gone. I was numb. I was all sensation. I was alive. I gasped for breath and waited for the next one, a loud heftywallop, and as he lifted his hand from my burning flesh the wave inside me started to rise again. The heat on my poor bottom was warming all the liquids inside me. It was like all the taps in a house had been turned on and the juices rolled and tumbled through all the channels and passages of my body, building in volume, and I started to gasp for breath. The gasp became a scream. I screamed and kept screaming, and as another great spank came scolding across my bottom I screamed through the tide of an incredible orgasm.
    My first.
    And it was glorious. It was better than anything the girls at school had described because it is really indescribable. It is as if you have lost your physical form and become pure essence, pure feeling. You are one with the universe. For just a moment it is like you are flying through space on your way to heaven.
    That big wonderful orgasm, my very first, pulsed down through my loins and reverberated through my body like an echo. I rocked and quaked. I shifted and squirmed across Mr Cartier’s knees. I pushed out my bottom and I swivelled my hips and felt ashamed, so ashamed, and so pleased with what I had done. I was naked on a strange man’s lap and I loved it. I had let him spank me. I had wriggled and writhed and, although my first impulse had been to try and get away from having my backside spanked, a deeper instinct yearned to feel the weight of his hand on my bare flesh. That first spank had been painful and shocking, but with each roaring thunderclap across my bottom the pain just became pleasure and the pleasure just grew and grew until it all erupted in that bounteous climax.
    I was still wriggling like an eel and slithered slowlyto a stop. I hung over Mr Cartier’s knees, spent and exhausted. My breasts were hanging heavily with their own weight, and I raised my two hands from the floor to give them a good hard pinch. I groaned. I was wet and warm and my bottom was like the mouth of a volcano pulsing with hot lava. Mr Cartier stroked my back from the nape of my neck, down over my waist, over the rising hill of my tender bottom and I kept thinking: I’ve done it, I’ve had an orgasm, I’ve had an orgasm, and I was dying to tell Binky I’d got the job.
    Now it was over I did feel ashamed. I dragged myself shakily to my feet and Mr Cartier held my bottom, pulled me towards him, and I felt so embarrassed as he rubbed his face over my drenched pussy. He then stood and really smiled for the first time.
    â€˜
C’est colossal. Magnifique
,’ he said, and I wanted him to kiss me, but he didn’t.
    He retrieved my knickers. I rested my hands on his shoulders as he pulled them up. He pulled at the front to take a last peek at my drenched pussy and let the elastic snap back. He did up the bra at the back and then watched with what I thought was a look of encouragement while I buttoned my blouse right up to my throat. I zipped myself into my skirt and grabbed my blazer. I was waiting for him to tell me that I’d got the job but even when we walked upstairs he didn’t mention it. He lifted my backpack for me and I slid my arms under the straps.
    â€˜Did I, you know . . .’
    â€˜No,’ he said. ‘I’d already promised the job to, what’s her name . . .’
    â€˜Binky?’ I gasped.
    â€˜No. No. No. The other one.’
    â€˜Virginia Ward?’
    He nodded. ‘She’ll be perfect around the office.’
    â€˜But what about me?’
    â€˜I’d never get any work done,’ he said. ‘Once a girl has been spanked she is never satisfied. She just wants more and more and more.’
    â€˜That’s not